She Fell From the Sky
by machinate
Summary: Bonnie Trevelyan is just your average modern-day slacker, until a hole in reality transports her to a world of magic—a world that she is now expected to save from certain doom. Modern-girl-in-Thedas-ish. No pairings yet, because I can't decide.
1. Chapter 1

**All right. I've had writer's block for a seriously long time now, so I decided I'm just gonna write something for fun without putting any heavy expectations on myself. So I have no idea how far this is going to go. I guess it depends on how well it's received and just how much I wind up enjoying working on it. That being said, I do hope you like it. I had fun writing this first chapter.  
**

 **x**

" _Bonnie, whatever you're doing right now, I need you to stop it and come rescue me from this hell-hole. I'm serious. Quit screwing around and get your ass up here. Your mom is getting ready to send out a search party, and Cousin Mike is driving me up a wall. When you get this, call me back, and then put your ass in gear. All right? Bye."_

"Way to be melodramatic, Tony," I said, tapping my phone against my forehead before tucking it away in my pocket. Knowing our family, I could get where he was coming from, though. Which was why I was lying on the hood of my car at a highway rest stop instead of on the road, heading for Grandpa Aberdeen's secluded mountain home. I should have been on my way an hour gone, but nobody would know the difference by the time I finally arrived at the family reunion.

Except my cousin Anthony, apparently. Poor guy. Suffering. Alone. His sacrifice would be remembered.

Night was starting to fall, though, and as much as I was enjoying loitering, I was a girl traveling on her own in the middle of nowhere. Yeah, I had a hidden knife in my wallet, and I knew how to throw a punch, but it'd be easier to spend the rest of the night on the road than having to knife my way out of any potential trouble.

"Where have you been!" Tony hissed in my ear. I was back behind the wheel, pulling out of the rest stop lot. My mom hated it when I used the phone while driving, but what she didn't know couldn't hurt her.

"I got lost," I lied, picking up speed on the narrow mountain road.

"You have GPS," Tony said, clearly not fooled.

"Yeah, but you know how I hate being told what to do," I said.

He made a pained noise as somebody shouted in the background, and I had to bite my lip to keep from laughing. "Please just get here. None of these people appreciate sarcasm. And Auntie Lou won't stop being casually racist."

"Don't worry," I said. It was darker on the road, with trees pressed right up to the curb on both sides. Grandpa's house wasn't much farther away, though. I figured I should be there in another half-hour or so, and I told Tony as much.

"You'd better," he mumbled, sulky.

"All right, let me hang up so I can concentrate on the—whoa." Something flashed through the trees, bright and blinding for a split second, leaving a weird afterimage behind my eyelids when I blinked.

"The whoa? What whoa? Bon? What is it?" he asked, sounding mildly alarmed.

"Nothing, it's…some kinda green light." Pulsing green, just a brief flash at first, fading, but it came back stronger, sustained. I would have dismissed it as mountain-weirdness if it hadn't kept throbbing through the trees like a freaky heartbeat.

"What, like an aurora?" Tony asked, bewildered.

I sighed. "We're a little far south to see an aurora, Tone." But what else could it be? Fireworks? I couldn't hear any booming, and it was a little late in the year even for the most hardcore patriots to be setting off their Fourth of July stock.

"Maybe it's aliens," Tony suggested, and if he'd been in the car I would have hit him. He knew stuff like that freaked me out. A girl driving by herself in the mountains, and freaky lightshows start up—I'd seen this episode of Unsolved Mysteries.

"Shut it," I said. I was getting closer—or the light was getting brighter—and I was seriously considering turning around.

"Ju-t hu-y up an- -et –ere, no a-iens w- upd—t –ou."

"Tony, you're breaking up I can barely—," I rounded a bend in the road and saw _something_ hovering in the air. It was about ten feet above the pavement, green and spitting, like a hole in the world. I could see _through_ it, see mountains covered in snow, and God why hadn't I just wasted a few more minutes at that rest stop?

All right, it was pretty high up and I could see the road on the other side. "Tony, I'll call you back," I said. I firmly pressed the end call button, and then stuffed the phone back in my pocket as I coasted toward the Thing. _Both hands on the wheel_ , I thought. I was going to gun it, shoot underneath and then not look back until I was a safe distance past. Whatever a safe distance from this Whatever it Was should be.

My tires screeched, and my poor, beat up Nissan shot forward, barreling toward the Thing like a runaway bull. In hindsight, I should have turned around and found another route, but 20/20 and whatever, right? The Thing throbbed again, another bright pulse of sickening green and I was doing fifty by the time I passed under it. Just as the damn thing exploded, of course.

Light blinded me, seared through my flesh and into my bones. I thought I was screaming, but I couldn't hear, could only feel my throat tearing as the light of a thousand damn suns turned me to ash. It went on forever, for an eternity. It was over within seconds. One moment I was careening toward the light, the next my car was skidding across a flat expanse of snow and it there was no green light, just a wall of trees.

And now I could definitely hear myself screaming. I slammed on the brakes, not that it did any good, but my car fish-tailed and seemed to sink into the snow. With a mighty jerk, it came to a stop, the right-side tires lifting completely up off the ground before crashing back into the powder.

For a moment, I just gripped the steering wheel, panting and shaking, foot jammed so hard on the brake pedal I could feel my toes going numb. Then—where the hell did all this snow come from? I gaped through the windshield. Snow covered everything, freshly fallen. And there was no road, just a trail left by me across a rolling field. Where—how?

I couldn't form a coherent thought. Something was buzzing in my ears, and at first I couldn't figure out what it was. Then I realized—the radio. I'd turned it down low when I'd gotten in the car so I could talk to Tony. Now I turned the volume nob and heard at a slightly higher decibel what I'd been hearing for the past few minutes—static. I rolled through my presets, then grabbed the tuner, but it was the same on every channel. Nothing but static.

"What the shit," I whimpered. There shouldn't be any snow. It was early fall, and even in that part of the Appalachians, it didn't snow until much later. And where in the world was I that there was not a single radio station? Had I been transported somehow, through time and space? That couldn't be possible but…all I had to do was look out the window to see I was not where I should be.

 _Get out of the car._ That was a good idea. I couldn't drive the damn thing through so much snow, not without any roads. I'd have to find some high ground, see if there was any… _anything_ around. A town. A house. Hopefully not one occupied by an axe murderer.

I grabbed my bag, just in case, and slung it over my shoulder. My knife was in there, and all my money, not to mention a few snacks because I _always_ carried snacks. One thing I hadn't thought I'd need was an extra coat, and that was exactly what I didn't have.

As soon as I popped the door open, I swore at the gust of wind that cut through me. All I had on was a t-shirt and jeans, and a light hoodie. My All-Stars weren't exactly made for winter hiking either, but I didn't have anything better. There was a pair of slip on sneakers in the back seat, and a blanket rolled up in the trunk from a concert I'd gone to that summer. But I wasn't about to wrap it around myself just yet. I figured I'd need freedom of movement, and that I'd warm up once I got started.

I was partly right. Soon enough, I was huffing and puffing as I made my way toward the trees. While I'm not exactly athletic, I'd thought I could handle a little trek uphill to get my bearings. With all the snow on the ground, though, it made everything hard going. Not to mention, my feet were already soaked and numb. Perfect, really. I was totally prepared for frostbite, after all.

Whatever. When I got back to my car I'd take off my shoes and socks and wrap my feet in something dry, then prop them up against the air vent with the heat on full blast. And it shouldn't take too long to get up the hill, or so I thought. Underneath the trees there was a lot less snow. Almost none, in fact. Most of it was caught on branches on the way down, and there was only a thin layer where the sun couldn't reach. Otherwise, I was walking on pine needles and other deadfall, which was a nice change of pace.

Then the uphill battle started. Everything was wet and slippery, and I wound up scrambling on all fours, gripping rocks and roots as I struggled to gain purchase. All in all, from car to the top of the hill it probably took me an hour to traverse about a hundred yards. John Madden would be appalled.

Muddy and damp, sweaty and panting, I stood at the top of the hill and turned in a slow circle. Mountains surrounded me on every side. And snow. And trees. I was getting close to screaming when I saw something that gave me hope. Smoke, rising in columns beyond the next hill. And on the mountain jutting into the sky before me was some sort of structure, a huge, fancy-looking building.

Even better were the people. I could see them far below—the drop on the other side of the hill was pretty steep. I crouched down to watch them trekking up a well-worn, muddy mountain path. It took me a minute to realize that absolutely every one of them was dressed like a complete weirdo.

Armor. Long robes, like a monk would wear. Strange dresses, and tunics. Were some of those people wearing culottes? Embarrassing.

I knew exactly what it meant, too. The worst thing that could possibly have happened.

I'd been transported to some kind of Medieval Faire. The kind where people dress up in old-timey clothes and talk like, "how art thee privy, huzzah!" Nobody was going to give me a straight answer unless I talked the same way, too. Screw that.

My phone was still in my pocket, so I dug it out, and held it up in the air. No signal. Because why would there be? If there were no radio towers around, I should have realized they wouldn't have bothered with cell towers either. _Guess I'll have to suck it up_ , I thought. One of those assholes was going to tell me where there was a landline phone so I could try and figure out what the hell had happened to me.

First, I had to figure out how to get down to that path. I took three steps away from the edge of the hill, and turned back toward the trees—and there was a man standing there with an arrow leveled at my face.

"Holy shit!" I yelped, throwing my hands up. "Jesus, dude, you scared me!"

The man frowned beneath his hood—he was dressed just as weirdly as everyone else. Fur armor, though. I'd never seen a suit of armor made out of fur, unless maybe that was a Viking thing? This guy didn't look like a Viking, though. He had pointy ears, for one. Maybe I needed to reevaluate my Medieval Faire theory.

"State your business," he said in a funny accent. It almost sounded some variant of United Kingdom, but I couldn't put my finger on what part. Maybe Scotland? Not like I was an expert or anything.

"I, uh, I'm lost?" I explained, poorly. "I was trying to get to my grandpa's house, and I…well, I dunno what happened, but I need to find whoever's in charge here and borrow their phone." Another odd look, this one lasting longer, like I wasn't making any sense to him. I sighed, and dropped my hands to my hips. "Look, pal," I said, annoyed, "I'm not out here to LARP, or whatever it is you and your friends are up to. I need to call my mom so she doesn't think I'm dead in a ditch somewhere. Can you help me out, or not?"

"You…speak very strangely," he finally said.

"Yeah, thanks," I said, "You gonna show me how to get down from here, or what?" I was tired of standing there, ankle deep in snow, so I brushed past him and he let me, lowering his bow and arrow. I'd gone about five feet before he caught up and pointed out a trail that would lead me safely down the hill. Then he disappeared. Literally. I didn't hear him slip away, but I looked over my shoulder and he was gone. I guessed some people really got into that live action roleplay stuff.

Down on the trail, I got some odd looks. There was absolutely no one dressed in regular clothes, so I probably stood out like a sore thumb. I actually began to feel a little self-conscious about it as I hiked up the path toward the large building. More and more of it was coming into view, and it was really rather impressive. Like some kinda temple. Where the hell was I? Clearly not in America, unless all of these people were really good at faking accents.

At least nobody bothered me. Nobody seemed too keen on bothering anybody, in fact. There was a noticeable tension in the air that I picked up on. Everybody walked with their heads down, or else glared at one another silently. Mostly the guys in the robes glared at the guys in the armor, and vice versa. Some kind of feud was going on, apparently. Monks versus knights? Interesting. Or not.

Almost all of the berobed people carried staves or walking sticks worked to varying degrees of fanciness. Some looked like actual tree branches that they'd just picked up in the woods five minutes ago, while others were so ornate they looked like they belonged in a museum. Meanwhile, the knights were all armed to the teeth, carrying very real-looking swords and shields and big knives. Even some of the more plainly dressed people carried weapons, though not all, and there weren't many of them anyway.

For my part, I did my best to avoid eye contact, and felt very awkward and out-of-place. I couldn't feel my feet anymore, and my nice shoes were all muddy and so were the cuffs of my jeans. At least this temple place wasn't much further. The path opened up into a wide courtyard after zig-zagging between some high cliffs, and then there was the temple sitting up at the top of a flight of wide, stone stairs. It was beautiful, really. Elegant. Like something modern architects always strive for but can never hit on the mark. I didn't have the right words for most of it, but there were graceful columns, and a tiered, sloping roof that glittered in the sun.

Thankfully, I wasn't the only one gaping. A lot of people stood there blinking up at the building. Some had tears in their eyes. All right, the moment was over when I saw some lady fall to her knees and begin to weep. It was a nice building, but not _that_ nice.

Looking around, I couldn't really begin to guess who was in charge. But there were some big guys in fancy armor standing at the top of the stairs by the open doors, so I figured they'd be a good place to start. _Don't get anxious,_ I told myself as I crossed the yard and began to climb. I gripped the strap of my bag in both hands as I ascended, and could tell I was being watched from beneath those gnarly helmets. Whoever these people were, they'd put a lot of work into these outfits, I had to give them that. The metal shone like new, and definitely looked real. But it couldn't be. That much real metal would weigh a ton, and you'd need a real blacksmith to make something that detailed…wouldn't you?

"Something you need, serah?" one of the guards asked as I approached in a voice that sounded feminine to my ears. I didn't know who 'serah' was, but this one had a funny accent, too. Not quite what my brain was telling me it should sound like.

"Uh, I'm looking for someone who could help me? I'm lost, and I need to use your phone." The guard stared at me for a moment, then exchanged a quick look with her companion.

"What's a phone?" she asked.

Sighing loudly, I smacked a hand to my forehead and tried to maintain my composure. "Look, I'm not in the mood for the act right now. I was basically just in a car accident, and I need a phone, or—or I wanna talk to your manager!" God, I sounded like my mom, but I was freaked out and I wanted this little misadventure to be over already. Although, there was that evil little voice in the back of my head whispering that it wouldn't be quite that easy, that things weren't as they seemed and I was missing something obvious—but I shoved that away because it couldn't be true.

"…Manager?" the armored woman said, "Do you mean the Knight-Commander?"

"If that's what you call them, then yeah. Somebody who's in charge," who I could yell at until they stopped pretending any part of this game they were playing was real. The woman looked at her cohort again, and they both shrugged.

"All are welcome in the Temple," she said slowly, as if maybe I was the one having trouble with reality, "Divine's orders. No weapons inside, though…you don't seem to be armed. Knight-Commander should be with the other higher-ups in the East Hall. I'd steer clear of the mages, too. They're being more uppity than usual."

"Uh-huh," I said. Other people were climbing the stairs and entering the temple, in small groups that seemed to be steering clear of one-another. A few were leaving through the large, open doors, though not as many as were going in.

Just as I made to step past the big gal in armor, she stepped forward, nearly shoving me out of the way with hand on the hilt of her sword, and I couldn't help but glance back. "You lot can go through the servants' entrance. Round back," she said. I saw her companion join her, both blocking the way for a couple of pointy-eared folks wearing rough-looking leather armor.

"You just told her all were welcome; what difference does it make what door we go through?" one of them sneered up at the pair of knights.

When the woman spoke again, her voice was dripping with condescension. "You're not mages or templars. This entrance is for those actually involved in the negotiations, and there's enough tension with just them. You two can use the servants' entrance, as is good and proper."

Wow, these people really got into whatever it was they were doing up here. The two elves—they had to be elves, right?—looked genuinely indignant as they turned and headed back down the stairs. One of them actually tossed a poisonous look my way, like the whole thing was my fault somehow. What had the guards said, though? Only mages and templars were allowed through the massive double doors. Armored people were going through the right side, and robed people through the left. I was neither, but the guards hadn't hassled me. Maybe because I was dressed in plain clothes, so even though they had to keep up the act, they knew I wasn't really involved in their game.

Whatever. I put it out of my mind, and walked through the door. Inside was warm, contrasting so greatly with the cold just a few feet away. It was almost like I'd stepped through some invisible barrier, and I sighed, wiggling my froze toes inside my wet shoes. No frost-bite for me today, I hoped.

Now where was I? Robed people were mages, and the guard had told me to avoid them. So the Knight-Commander must be a templar, and so I should follow where they were headed.

Only, when I made to follow the latest group, a man in armor wouldn't let me go after them. "Templars only this way," he said gruffly, actually putting a hand on my shoulder as I tried to walk down the same hall the others had gone down.

Shrugging away from him, I brushed off my shoulder with a grimace. I don't like being touched, not by strange assholes in dollar-store armor, at least. "I need to see the Knight-Commander," I told him.

Snorting, he shrugged and said, "You and everyone else. Negotiations start up after midday. You can try to talk to him then, but I wouldn't bet on him having time to chat."

Well…what a rude bastard. I supposed I could just run past him when the next group came through. I mean, what were they gonna do, tackle me and put me in LARP jail? Rolling my eyes so he could see how very foolish I found all of this to be, I turned and paced across the large entrance hall. And saw there were other doors. Lots of them, most of them open, leading down other hallways, some up staircases. One of them had to lead around to where the Knight-Commander was. All I had to do was ask for directions at some point, right?

When Mr. Templars Only wasn't looking, I slipped through one of the doors, picking at random. The hallway beyond was dimly lit by flickering sconces. For the first fifty feet the walls were lined by alternating decorative mirrors and even showier paintings. Everything I saw looked like it must cost a fortune, though what and who the paintings were depicting, I couldn't say. People wearing strange clothing that could have been Medieval or Renaissance, but didn't look quite right. Not that I would know for sure, but it added to the sense of wrongness that seemed to pervade just about everything.

Stopping halfway down the hall, I stood on my toes to look into one of the sconces, and saw that it was lit not by a bulb, or even a candle, but by a smooth, pulsing stone. I saw no light switches anywhere, either.

 _All right, Bonnie, don't panic,_ I told myself, rocking back on my heels. There had to be a perfectly reasonable explanation for all of this. Just like there was one for that flash of green light that had ended with me going from Western Massachusetts to East Chuckafuck Nowhere. Whether it was a wormhole, or aliens, or what, I had no idea, but I definitely didn't seem to be in Kansas anymore.

"No," I said, shaking my head. It couldn't be what I was thinking. That was impossible. Maybe…maybe I'd crashed my car, and this was all a coma dream. Or I was dead, and this was purgatory. Okay, not the most comforting thoughts, but somehow preferable to interdimensional travel. _Just keep looking,_ I thought. There was still a chance I was getting worked up over nothing. Around the corner the hallway became lined with doors every twelve feet or so. Maybe one of the rooms beyond had a phone in it.

I poked my head into a few, but found only sparsely decorated rooms with narrow beds, almost like a college dorm before the new kids moved in. Another turn, and I was in another long hallway. More rooms, some filled with unused furniture, but none of them had a phone. Or a light switch. Or any modern amenities. I mean, there were some old-fashioned places in the world that refused to upgrade for the aesthetic, and made visitors use kerosene lamps and cook with a potbellied stove. But none of the lights I saw were powered by anything normal, and everything looked new rather than antique, like this place wasn't actually some weekend retreat that catered to historical fetishists.

The smells of food cooking began to permeate the air, which made me realize that I was totally lost, and probably very far from my original objective. It also made me realize how hungry I was—I had stopped to get McDonald's around noon, but that had been over six hours ago. And I had only eaten a granola bar when I'd stopped at that rest-stop, because I'd figured my relatives would attempt to stuff me like a Thanksgiving turkey once I reached grandpa's house. Honestly, I'd been looking forward to it.

What had that guard said about negotiations? That they'd be starting after midday, which meant that wherever I was, it was morning. Morning, and back home it had been just getting dark out. I was about to get seriously jet-lagged, but that could wait until after I'd found something to eat.

Food, and then I'd try and figure out what was going on. If I was in a coma, then I must have been hungry in real life, and if I ate and didn't get any less hungry, then that might tell me something. All I had to do was find where the food was, and hope that nobody would mind if I snatched a sandwich.

Only, I didn't get that far. I passed by a staircase and paused, peering up into the darkness. Had I just heard—there it was again! Somebody shouting. None of my business, probably, but…The cry sounded again, and it wasn't just shouting; somebody was in trouble. I wasn't sure how I knew, but the voice sounded distressed, and well, there was nobody else around. Maybe somebody had hurt themselves, and lending a helping hand could put me into the good graces of someone who could help me out.

Forgetting my stomach for the moment, I started up the staircase. Another cry, easier to hear on the landing, and I felt a sense of urgency come over me. I'd have to run, get there as fast as I could, because something important was happening and if I wasn't there—

I put my foot on the step above the landing, and then everything went dark. There was a period of nothingness in my mind, like a blank reel of film, but I could sense that time was passing, something was happening that I couldn't see or remember. I was aware, though. Like this was a dream where nothing was happening, but I knew I was dreaming and couldn't wake up. The nothing stretched on and on, endless, and then just when I thought that this would truly go on forever, that I would never see or hear anything again, I opened my eyes.

And part of me wished I had never woken up at all.

 **x**

 **Well, there's the first chapter. Two things to note—in Bonnie's universe, Dragon Age doesn't exist, so she's never played Inquisition or any of the other games, or read the books, etc. She has no idea what's going on for the most part (because it's funnier that way), but the second thing to note is that Bonnie's last name** ** _is_** **Trevelyan, sooo…What does it all mean?!**

 **At any rate, I'd appreciate it if you could drop me a review *thumbs up emoji***


	2. Chapter 2

**Oops?**

 **.**

 _Well, this blows_ , I thought. Albeit, 'blows' was a bit of an understatement. I'd woken up with a sword leveled at my face—like a _sword_ , seriously, what the hell—and things had only deteriorated from there. Groggy as I'd been when I'd first come to, I couldn't quite parse what was happening to me. Unfortunately, my ability to make sense of what was going on around me didn't really make much of a comeback in the following hours.

As I'd woozily sat up on of the stiff, uncomfortable cot I'd woken up on, some big guys in armor had grabbed me under the arms, dragging me to and making me kneel in the center of a cold, dark room. The floor was frigid stone, and it wasn't long before my knees began to ache. I was still in my own mud-stained clothes, too thin to protect me from the chill. My hands had been bound while I was unconscious, which was alarming, to say the least, my flesh rubbed raw by the tightly wound rope.

My first instinct was to be sarcastic about the whole thing—how's a comatose woman supposed to be a threat, am I right? I mean, I was clearly in a coma in some shitty hospital, hooked up to beeping machines with tubes stuffed up my nostrils, because there was no way any of this was real. Maybe I hadn't been certain of that before when I'd gotten out of my car and found myself in Bizarro World surrounded by elves and shit. But now I was, and there was a glaringly obvious reason as to why.

There was some kind of… _thing_ glowing in the center of my left palm. Poisonous green, a lot like the light that had flashed on the road right before I found myself in Wherever the Fuck I was right now. Not Earth. Not my own planet, and possibly not even my own dimension. The sci-fi nerd in me wanted to be fascinated, but the logical, sensible side of me wanted to scream that this was impossible and to wake up from this coma-induced nightmare. Because the glowing mark _hurt_ , worse than cramps, worse than that time I fell out of a tree and broke my arm, worse than anything I'd ever felt. It hurt like I imagined it would hurt to pick up a white-hot coal and just let it cook my tender flesh. Really, it was ridiculous, and it kept sputtering and flaring, and I wanted to scream each time, but I just clenched my teeth, too afraid to make a peep.

Before I found myself in this predicament, kneeling in the dark and surrounded by angry sword-boys, I'd woken up one other time. Wherever I'd been in that instance was beyond description. Green light shining through swirling mist was all my eyes could make sense of—that, and a glowing figure cutting through the fog, high above me, reaching out. Then…nothing. Nothing, but the distant sensation of agony, and weird, feverish dreams. Of the few I could remember, there had been Mom yelling at me for getting side-tracked again, like being sucked through a wormhole was my own fault. Then Grandpa Aberdeen had shown up for some reason, a younger version of himself who had just smiled sadly and said he was sorry. For what? I barely knew my grandpa on my dad's side. He didn't get along with most of our family, which was why the reunion at his place had been such a big deal.

Then there had been flashes of nonsense, images that didn't mean anything to me, like a monstrously tall creature that wouldn't die, a pool of water that I tried to drink from only to wind up choking as my throat closed, a figure wearing a ludicrously wide-brimmed hat whose face I couldn't see. Tall men with horns, hooded figures soaked in blood, twisted creatures made of glowing red stone, beautiful, masked people with knives hidden behind their backs, and a great glowing eye that offered me a sword that was impossibly heavy. I didn't know what any of it meant, and it didn't seem to matter. Each scene flashed by in an instant until I felt like the universe was spinning, and then I'd woken up with a start, jerking all my limbs at once.

I didn't have long to kneel there in what was presumably a dungeon. There was an oddly patterned knock at the door, like some kind of signal, and the next thing I knew I was being grabbed under the arms again and hauled to my feet. The Thing on my hand hissed, and pain burned through my joints, making me go limp, but the guards didn't seem to care. They dragged me out of the cold, dark room, down the hall, and then unceremoniously dumped me through an open doorway—and into a strangely well-appointed room, for a dungeon anyway. Bookshelves lined the walls, and the space was lit by numerous candles. I saw a table covered in parchments, and an inkwell, but underneath it all, it was just another rough cell.

"Leave us," a woman's voice said, and then the door was being slammed shut behind me. Before I could get my bearings and pick myself up off the floor, someone else was doing it for me. An armored woman with short, black hair and a murderous look on her face picked me up one-handed and shoved me into a rickety, wooden chair.

"Tell me why we shouldn't kill you now!" she demanded, and I gaped wordlessly at her for several seconds until she got fed up, and grabbed my bound hands. "Explain this!"

The mark thingy. "Explain it? You're the ones who put it there!" I squeaked, my voice high and thin with terror.

To her credit, the woman looked genuinely taken aback by the accusation, rather than furious. For about three seconds. Then she advanced on me like a thunderhead, and I thought I was about to be cleaved in twain.

"Cassandra," another voice, the one that had ordered the guards out of the room, spoke firmly. The scary woman froze with a visible effort, then turned and stalked off to stand in the corner and glower at me. Now I could see the other woman, dressed in a lavender coat that was armored subtly with mail and leather. She almost seemed to blend in with the shadows when she wasn't moving, which was why I nearly fell out of the chair when she stepped toward me. "Why would you think that we had put the mark on your hand?" she asked me calmly.

All right, I'd watched enough Law & Order to recognize the good-cop, bad-cop routine when it was being paraded before me like this. Now I knew why it worked so well. The Nice Lady act made me want to trust her immediately, but I just barely managed to rein myself in.

Putting on my Uncooperative Face, I said, "Who else should I blame?"

"You are the one who walked out of the Fade!" Scary Lady snarled. Nice Lady had called her Cassandra, right? "You are the only one who survived the explosion at the Temple! You—," she stopped short as the Nice Lady held up a hand to forestall her.

"We need her, Cassandra. But first—," Nice Lady gestured to one of the tables, and I jolted again. My stuff! It was all laid bare on top of the table in front of me. My bag had been emptied, and my pockets, and everything I'd had on me when I entered the temple was spread out for the whole world to see. Good thing there were only women in the room because I definitely wouldn't have wanted some dude rooting around in my stuff, touching my tampons and whatnot. Still, it pissed me off. "I have never seen items like these." Nice Lady shifted, and I saw a hint of red hair beneath her hood, as she reached down and picked up my Swiss-Army knife. I'd completely forgotten I even had that with me. My mom didn't like me carrying it for whatever reason, probably thinking I'd get myself in trouble with it. _Oh, if only you could see me now, Ma_.

"That's mine!" I snapped. I didn't like people poking around in my belongings. I'd gone through enough of that in high school when my mom decided to start snooping through my room every few months. It had driven me up a wall, because she wasn't subtle about it at all, and often left my things in a disarray. At least she'd never found whatever she thought she was looking for because I was neither stupid nor confrontational. Usually. Right at that moment, I was at my limit.

"An interesting weapon," she said mildly as she set it back down, "Not as interesting as this." And she picked up what looked like a flat piece of plastic the size of a credit card, and pulled on it, revealing the blade hidden inside. My wallet knife.

"A girl should always be prepared," I told her, which was what I always said when people asked me about my thing with knives.

The woman smirked, almost as though she agreed. "What is the purpose of the other items, I wonder?" she said, picking up my actual debit card and scrutinizing it with narrowed eyes. I didn't answer because I wasn't sure how to explain a debit card to someone who'd never seen one, but she didn't seem put-out. Instead, she ran her fingers over the rest of my things—my yo-yo, several granola bars and a bag of fruit snacks, a miniature first-aid kit, my cell phone, a small notebook and several pens and pencils, my keys, a Lego man, headphones, hand-sanitizer, and a travel-size bottle of lotion, not to mention my more intimate products.

"What do you want from me?" I finally blurted out in hopes she would stop touching my stuff.

"I would like to know who you are and where you came from, but that can wait. There are more important matters at hand," she said as she turned to the other woman and gave her a nod. "I will head to the forward camp."

"As you say, Leliana," Scary Lady—Cassandra—said. Leliana opened the door and stepped out into the hall, and then Cassandra was yanking me to my feet.

"Where are you taking me?" I asked, panicked as she pulled me down the hall, one hand clamped like a vise on my upper arm.

"It will be easier to show you," she said stiffly. I wanted to say something about making sure nobody took my things, but decided against it. Cassandra didn't seem like the type to screw around with.

We went up a flight of stairs and wound up in a large hall lit by numerous candles, and the natural light that filtered in through stained-glass windows. The light had an eerie quality to it, though, and it gave the building an unsettling atmosphere, but that didn't shake the feeling I had that we were in some kind of church. And what kind of church needed a dungeon?

Cassandra didn't let up, directing me toward a set of double doors that were opened for us by a pair of guards, and then we stepped out into a world of nightmares. For a few seconds I couldn't really process what I was seeing—and then the mark sputtered, and I screamed and fell to my knees, trying to cradle my hand to my chest. _Something_ flared inside me, a spark of heat that pulsed in time with the pain in my hand, and the horror that had greeted me as I stepped outside. A hole in the sky, a great, spinning wound spitting green fire, with chunks of stone caught in its pull. Soft sobs wracked me, and then Cassandra was kneeling before me.

"We have been calling it the Breach," she said, indicating the swirling vortex high above us. "It is somehow connected to the mark. Each time it expands, so does this—," she gestured to my hand, "and it is killing you."

"F-fantastic," I huffed, trying to get myself under control as I blinked tears away, "Sounds like a really smart thing to do to myself—put a magical, glowing mark on my hand that's trying to kill me."

For a wonder, the woman actually seemed to smile, though it could have been my imagination. "Clearly all did not go as planned," she said, and then she was helping me to my feet, albeit more gently than before. Okay, good. Maybe I could win her over somehow. Self-preservation kicked into high-gear, and the shock and horror I felt were pushed back into a manageable little knot in the back of my head. Plenty of time to have a breakdown later, or so I hoped.

"So the Breach," I said, voice still quaking ever-so-slightly, "is there…some way to close it?"

Arching a brow, Cassandra seemed to look me up and down, measuring, before answering. "Perhaps with the mark…But that is just a theory."

"All right, so…If I cooperate—,"

Sighing she said, "I can promise you a trial." Well. If that was the best I was gonna get. _If any of this is even real_.

"Then I'll do whatever I can." Whether or not that made her more inclined to believe me, I wasn't sure. She held me by the arm again, marching me down a path through a village that would have looked charming if not for all the people standing around giving me the stink-eye.

"Everybody thinks I'm guilty, huh?" I muttered under my breath. I'd seen similar looks before, like after I'd set off six stink bombs in my hated English teacher's class senior year of high school. Six might have been overdoing it, I'll admit, but the guy deserved it after having the nerve to accuse me of plagiarism because I'd used big words in my midterm essay. But I digress.

"They need it," Cassandra said, "Thousands died at the Temple, including Divine Justinia, our Most Holy."

 _Thousands_ , I mouthed. Thousands?! Then it had to be personal, somehow. A terrorist, looking to sow fear and dissension. If these people were anything like the people back on Earth, then they were going to be looking for a scapegoat. A scapegoat named Bonnie Trevelyan, apparently, the girl with the amazing murder-mark on her hand. Nothing screamed 'guilt' like being caught at the scene of the crime with the evidence burned into your body.

Thankfully, nobody decided to take justice into their own hands, though I saw more than one person fondling their weapons as Cassandra and I walked by. We passed through a gate at the mouth of the village, then traveled a path along a frozen lake. Mountains touched the sky beyond the tops of trees, and really, the scenery would have been beautiful if not for the sickly green cast to everything. That, and the mark had taken to slowly throbbing, like a broken limb with its own heartbeat.

We crossed a bridge, a bridge laden with piles of wrapped, oblong objects. When I realized they were bodies I nearly stumbled, but Cassandra kept me upright. There was another gate at the end of the bridge, and we paused to wait a moment for the soldiers standing guard to open the sally-port for us. This time, Cassandra let me walk through of my own volition, following close behind.

"Hold," she said. I paused, turning numbly to face her, and she regarded me a moment before heaving a sigh. I felt a small thrill of alarm as she produced a knife from her belt, and stepped forward. Then the blood was rushing back into my hands as she cut the ropes that bound me. "The valley ahead is…well, you shall see. You would not last long with bound hands."

 _I might not last long regardless_ , I thought. Out loud I just whispered a meek, "Thank you."

"Do not thank me yet. Come." And without waiting, she stalked off ahead, one hand on the pommel of her sword. "Stay close to me, whatever you do. And do not think for a moment that you can flee. Even if you managed to elude me, there are worse things afoot than my sword-arm." Part of me doubted that, but I only nodded. Where the hell would I go if I took off anyway? Wasn't like there was gonna be a U.S. Embassy around the corner.

Whatever was lying in wait ahead, I knew for a fact I didn't want to encounter first hand, but what choice did I have? I had to cooperate, or die. Even if this was a coma dream, I could obviously still feel pain, and I didn't want to risk the chance of death in the dream leading to death in real life. That was how these things always worked in the movies, and I had nothing else to compare this to.

Cassandra took the lead, and I could do nothing but trail after her, rubbing my thumb against the mark. It felt like a scar, an unnaturally smooth slash of skin. There was no real heat to it, despite how it physically burned. I had screamed the first time I'd seen it—screamed and kept screaming until one of the guards had backhanded me. Ever since then I'd felt like I was on the cusp of a serious mental break. One slip, the slightest acknowledgment of how fucked up my situation was, and I knew I'd wind up in a sobbing heap on the ground.

Pretending like I wasn't totally horrified was the only thing keeping me going. I swallowed back a lump of panic that tried to rise in my throat as I glanced up at the Breach and then went back to massaging the mark. _Just don't think about it. Don't focus on it. You're fine, you're fine, yo_ —

"Ah!" I cried out as the mark flared again, the pain so all-consuming that my legs gave out. I hit the snow with a grunt and would have just lain there, writhing, if not for Cassandra. Again, she picked me up like I weighed nothing, and put me back on my feet, where I wobbled unsteadily for a moment. The only pain I could compare it to was a migraine, but those lasted hours and left you feeling drained and sick. The pain from the mark flashed, sizzling through me like a bolt of lightning, then left me feeling weak and tender all over.

"Walk," Cassandra ordered, and I took a few ginger steps, breaths shallow until I realized that the pain had already faded. In fact, the effects didn't seem to last long at all thanks to that other strange sensation, moving under my skin like soothing waves. I was able to walk normally again within seconds, and I saw Cassandra watching me with narrowed eyes. "It's getting worse. We need to get you to the Breach, quickly."

"No arguments here," I said. I risked a glance up at the Breach and had to pull my eyes away. "So that entire temple…" I began.

"Gone," Cassandra said, "The explosion leveled the mountaintop, and the dust and debris killed many who were nearby. We don't have an official death toll yet…But we know for certain the Divine, and many other important leaders were there when it happened. The Knight-Commander René of Montsimmard, one of the last high-ranking loyal templars, several of the surviving First Enchanters, and many of the chantry's Clerics and Revered Mothers. And that does not even include the hundreds of others, the spectators, the servants—so many lives lost."

I could hear the pain in her voice, but I didn't say anything. Unfortunately, I knew what it felt like to experience a large-scale tragedy like this, but I didn't want to make it about me. I didn't even know who the people were that she was talking about, but they had been people, plain and simple.

"I know it doesn't mean much, but I am sorry," I finally managed, hoping she didn't take it as an admission of guilt.

"There is nothing that can be done about it now, besides trying to seal the Breach. Come, the forward camp isn't much further." We were coming up to another bridge, and I made to follow her across—only to leap back as something came hurtling out of the sky, striking the bridge and sending it crumbling into the ravine below. I just barely managed to keep my feet, standing on the edge of the broken masonry and staring down into the rising dust below.

"Cassandra?" I called out hesitantly, not sure if I could handle having just watched somebody die.

"I am here," I heard her coughing reply, "Find a way down, and—Wait! Stay where you are until I call for you!"

Well. Shit. I heard her grunting, and then some kind of oily, hissing noise that made gooseflesh creep across my skin. There were vague shapes in the dust below, one moving quickly, and the others swarming around it. I turned and ran to the foot of the bridge, then began looking for a way down the embankment. Of course, I misjudged and wound up slipping on a rock covered in snow, and sliding halfway down the slope. Right into an overturned crate, spilling weapons out into the snow. Luckily, I hadn't bowled right into them and sliced myself open.

Immediately, I grabbed up a sword that looked to be the same length as Cassandra's and promptly dropped it as the heavy blade dragged my arm down. "Right," I muttered. I could manage to hold it up if I tried, but having to wrestle with the weapon itself would defeat the purpose. I was trying to charge in and be the hero, not trip over a sword and cut my own foot off.

There were other swords and one thing that looked like a long scepter or something. A staff? It had a blade on the end, and some sort of decorative piece of metal at the top, but it wasn't a polearm. Not that I would have been able to fight with it if it was, any more than I could have fought with a sword come to think. Not the way Cassandra could. But looking at it gave me a weird feeling, like the polished grip was calling out to me, something reaching out, thrumming through my blood.

Before I knew what I was doing, I was hefting one of the staves, testing the weight. It was heavier somehow than a walking stick, maybe because of the nasty blade on one end, or the odd jewel set at the other. Something seemed to hum from within the wood, tingling against my skin in a way that should have made me more uncomfortable than it did. I didn't give myself much time to mull it over. Staff in hand, I stepped carefully around the rest of the spilled weapons and skidded toward the bottom of the ravine.

Now I could see Cassandra, hacking away at some kind of greasy monster. Because of course there were monsters here, why wouldn't there be? There was more than one, though, and they seemed to be harrying her, one moving in to distract her while the other tried to flank her. With a ragged cry, she buried her blade in the body of one of the monsters, but the second was moving in.

"Hey!" I shouted, unthinking, and she and the creature both turned to look at me. _Don't hit Cassandra, don't hit Cassandra_ , I chanted silently as I lost the last of whatever good sense I had left and charged the creature. Instead of waiting for me, Cassandra made her move. With a smooth stroke of her blade, the creature gurgled and seemed to melt into the ground, leaving a slick residue behind. Gross.

"Drop your weapon!" Cassandra snapped, and I skidded to a stop, tearing my eyes away from the greasy spot on the ice as the staff fell out of my hands. I raised my arms in a gesture of surrender as she advanced on me, and tried to look innocent.

"Sorry, I was trying to help!" I said quickly.

"You looked like you've never held a weapon in your life," she said, expression back to good old suspicious. "Are you a mage?"

"Uh, no?" I answered, "I just…I dunno how to fight. I was just gonna whack it with the stick."

"You would do better to go unarmed if you cannot hold a real weapon," but then she was shaking her head with a sigh. "But I cannot protect you. Pick up the staff, and try not to cut yourself on the blade. It will be better than nothing." Hearing that she couldn't protect me made me want to run screaming down the mountain, but I did as she told me. "Just don't hit anything that is not a demon, and you should be fine," was her advice.

"Is that what those things were?" I squeaked. Demons? Demons?! Great, I was never going to sleep again. This was definitely worse than when I went to see Paranormal Activity, and that kept me up for days.

"Not many have seen them firsthand. I do not blame you for being frightened," Cassandra said. "You should know; those were shades, and there may be worse than that ahead."

Clutching the staff to my chest, I trailed after her at what I hoped was a safe distance. The air seemed to get colder, biting at my nose and ears, my cheeks and fingers already numb. The only thing keeping me warm was my rapidly pounding heart, and the strenuous, off-trail hike up the mountain. Everything was so vivid, nothing like an actual dream, as if this world was trying its level best to prove to me that everything around me was very, very real.

Like the agony in my hand wasn't proof enough. Nothing could hurt that badly in a dream, I was sure, even a freaky coma dream. Unless maybe in the real world my hand had been chopped off or something, and this was some phantom limb pain bullshit. Man, if I woke up in a hospital somewhere and found out I was missing an appendage, I might actually be relieved. This world with its hole in the sky and demons and angry people with swords was one I wouldn't be sad to leave behind.

We encountered another shade that Cassandra went barreling toward, sword swinging in to cut through its shadowy form. Was it solid, I wondered as hefted my staff, blade forward, too busy watching the warrior woman hack away at the creature to pay attention to anything else. Demons were usually thought to be invisible, or vague, shadowy shapes that you saw out of the corner of your eye as far as I knew. If you believed in that sort of stuff. These "shades" were definitely corporeal, and could do physical damage if the way Cassandra ducked behind her shield when it swiped at her was any indication. What would it do to a person if those claw-like hands made contact with unarmored skin? Unarmored skin like mine, guarded only by my dirty clothing.

The shade shuddered and sank into the ground at Cassandra's killing blow, and she turned back to me with a scowl. I imagine she probably would have said something about me being unhelpful, if I hadn't suddenly been knocked off my feet and into a snowbank. Whatever had hit me left me feeling stunned and tingly, and not in a good way. Like pins and needles all over, and lying in the snow probably didn't help but my head was spinning and I couldn't even entertain the thought of standing up.

"Always," I heard Cassandra's voice just as her wobbly visage appeared in my line of sight, "Be aware of your surroundings." The world tilted nauseatingly, and I realized I was standing again. "Here." Something was being shoved in my hand, and then my hand was being guided up to my face. "Drink." I felt the touch of glass against my lips, and swallowed automatically.

"Blegh!" I sputtered. Whatever I'd just drank warmed my tongue like liquor, but had a strong, herbal taste that made me feel like I was drinking my Aunt Lou's stinky oil potpourri. I could feel its warming effect sweeping through my body, though, clearing my head and banishing the uncomfortable ache from my limbs. The only thing it didn't get rid of was the pain in my hand. "What was that?"

"A healing potion," Cassandra said slowly, regarding me strangely as I licked my sleeve to banish the taste from my mouth. "You…are truly not from Thedas, are you?"

"Uh…No," I said, assuming that Thedas was where I was.

"Then where—No, there is no time. Follow me, and keep your eyes open."

I did my best to follow that direction, and wound up running into one of the things that had knocked me down. Wispy, green, vaguely people-shaped ghost things. And they threw blasts of energy that would knock whoever they hit on their ass, as I had learned all too well. I managed to hit one, my staff seemingly passing right through it. But the ghost made some kind of high-pitched keening noise, and evaporated out of existence, so I must have killed it. I could almost _feel_ it dying, like feeling the air getting thinner for a moment, and after that uncomfortable realization, I began to notice it happening every time a demon died.

That was my only lucky hit, though. Any other time I wanted to hit something I had to wait until it got close enough to touch, which made me wish I'd just grabbed a dagger instead of a stick. Seeing the eyeless face of a shade up close was something that would haunt my sleep for eternity. I was really not looking forward to going to bed again, in spite of my rising exhaustion. Adrenaline could only get a girl so far, after all. I was flagging by the time Cassandra led me over a rise and paused, listening.

"I hear fighting ahead. Come, we must help them!" Them who? There were more soldiers in the valley according to Cassandra. The thought of having a few more people between myself and the demons was a comforting one, so I jogged in her wake as she drew her sword again. I could hear the fighting myself, the sound of shouting and demonic screeching, and what was that sizzling noise? It made the hair stand up on the back of my neck, like the air was charged for a lightning storm.

We came around the corner of a crumbling wall, and Cassandra went plowing forward of course. I, however, froze, jaw dropping open as I took in the scene before me. A smaller twin to the massive Breach hovered about ten feet off the ground, and there were demons swarming a group of armored soldiers. The fighting wasn't what drew my attention, though. It was the glowing hole in the air, the same kind of light that I'd seen on the road before I wound up here. I could feel the mark sizzling in my palm, and that _other_ feeling welling up, brimming beneath my skin like it was begging to be released.

"What the hell is that?" I said aloud. Nobody could hear me, even as I took a few disbelieving steps forward. A flash of violet light snapped me out of my stupor, and blinking through the blinding motes, I could have sworn I saw a man throwing fire and lightning out of a staff, almost like the one I was holding white-knuckled in my hands. Really, by that point I shouldn't have been surprised, but every new, weird thing I saw gave me that sense of unreality that had me convinced all over again that this was all a dream.

A demon came slithering toward me, then slumped at my feet with some kind of projectile sticking out of its head. I didn't even flinch. There was a hole in the world right in front of me, and maybe if I could get close enough I'd wind up back in my world, or I'd wake up, or _something_. I stepped around the dead creature as the fighting wound down around me. If I could just get close enough, maybe if I touched it—

Somebody grabbed my hand, and I nearly jumped out of my skin as the man with the staff shouted in my ear. "Hurry, before more come through!" Then he was thrusting my hand at the light, and it felt like there was an explosion in my palm as the mark leeched out, latching onto the hole in the world and stitching it shut. Pain vibrated up my arm, like the power contained in the mark was surging through my bones even as it was pouring out in a twisting beam of green light.

I wanted to scream, but my voice was stuck in my throat. I wanted to wrench away from him, but I was afraid I would lose control of the mark. That strange sensation I had felt earlier was back, burning underneath my skin, in my head, sending chills and flashes of heat through my body until I thought I might burst into a million pieces.

And all at once it was over, and the man—an elf, I realized—dropped my arm, and the limb flopped uselessly against my side, numb. The power that had surged through me receded, like the tide after a storm, but I could still feel it simmering in the back of my mind. I was torn between being furious that the elven man had grabbed me like that, that the damn light was gone, and so was my chance to try and get home, or wanting to sit down in the icy mud and cry.

"What did you do that for?!" I snapped, settling for the former.

He blinked in surprise, seeming to shrink back, and I felt the slightest twinge of regret for my rudeness. But it was short lived. "I did nothing," he said, his tone explanatory rather than defensive, "The mark is responsible for closing the rift."

I grabbed my limp hand, and could barely feel my own grip as I glared down at the now-silent mark. "I could have gone back," I said softly. Couldn't I? This "rift" had been spitting demons apparently, but the one back home had just pulled me through. Was there a difference somehow?

"You were right, Solas," I heard Cassandra say.

"So it seems. Now all that remains to be seen is if the mark will have the same effect on the Breach."

"Let's hope so," a third voice chimed in, "Demons raining from the sky is bad for business. Or so I hear."

"Can it open rifts?" I interjected, turning to see three faces staring at me like I'd grown an extra head. Cassandra, the elven man she'd called Solas, and a second man, shorter than me and carrying a wicked looking crossbow. A few soldiers milled about, keeping their distance and shooting furtive glances at me.

"Why in the Void would you want to open a rift?" asked the short man.

"Because I came through one," I said, "That's how I got here."

"When you stepped out of the Fade?" Cassandra asked, sounding alarmed.

"No, before that. I don't even remember _that_. I was driving, and a light appeared over the road and it sucked me through some kind of Sliders wormhole, and now I'm here! Can I open a rift to get back?" I demanded.

"That is not possible," Cassandra said, before turning her disbelieving glare on Solas, "Is it?"

"Ordinarily, I would say no…," he said, and the look he was giving me made my skin crawl, because there was something in his eyes that reminded me of my high school science teacher getting ready to dissect a dead frog in front of the class. But the look was gone so fast, replaced by quiet curiosity that made me wonder if I'd really seen anything untoward at all. "But these are strange days. I would not discount anything."

"So a girl falls through a hole in the sky, and winds up with the mark of our salvation on her hand," the other man said with an air of grandeur, tapping his chin thoughtfully, "I really wish I had something to write this down with."

Cassandra made a noise of disgust as she gestured back the way we'd come, "Varric, you should return to Haven. Your assistance is appreciated, but—,"

"But I could always do more, I know," he replied, waving away her attempt to dismiss him. Then he turned to me. "Varric Tethras," he said by way of introduction, "rogue, storyteller, and occasional unwelcome tagalong." He winked up at Cassandra, and she gave him a look like she wanted to slap some duct tape onto his chest hair and let 'er rip.

"Bonnie Trevelyan," I told him, feeling dazed as I gripped my wrist. Feeling was returning to my arm and it _hurt_ , like blood warming a frostbitten limb. And the other feeling, the chill and the heat roiling inside of me, this time it didn't seem to be fading away.

"We need to keep moving," Cassandra briskly reminded us all. "Varric, if you are coming, then you will do as you are told, yes?"

"Sure, sure, Seeker. I'll be my best behavior," Varric said in a tone that suggested otherwise.

We continued on, and I felt a measure of relief during our next demonic encounter. With the addition of Varric and Solas, most of the demons were put down before they got anywhere near me. Solas regarded me with a weird expression as I wielded my staff like a baseball bat, whacking at anything that managed to get close enough. He performed some kind of spell that washed comfortingly across my skin, and made the blasts from those floating wraiths dissolve harmlessly on impact, which I was grateful for.

"So, Bonnie," Varric asked as we traversed a frozen pond and made our way towards a stone staircase that led further up the mountain, "Where exactly _did_ you come from?"

"I don't…I can't explain it. Another dimension," I said, wondering if that even made sense to him. "It's nothing like this."

"Leave her be, Varric," Cassandra barked back over her shoulder as she led the way, "She can answer your asinine questions later."

Varric gave me a sympathetic look, and said in a low voice, "The Seeker isn't all that great at putting people at ease. You just stick by me and Chuckles." I nodded, feeling grateful again that it wasn't just me and Cassandra against the oncoming horde. Cassandra didn't seem to want to chop me into pieces anymore, but Varric invested himself in watching out for me as we continued to climb. In a way it made me feel even more useless, like I was a liability. Obviously, that's exactly what I was, but I didn't have to be happy about it.

"Oh, no," I groaned as we crested another rise and were greeted by another one of those rifts. There was a gate on the other side, and several more soldiers stood between the gate and another batch of demons. Being in the presence of another rift made me feel dizzy, and I hung back, wincing each time a demon collapsed, or Solas cast a spell. I could feel the power of it all singing in my bones, and I could only imagine that it was due to the mark.

With a whimper, I reluctantly raised my hand to the rift at Solas' bidding, and it was like those old cartoons where Bugs Bunny would whip out a giant magnet and everything made of metal sprang towards him. Only the rift was the magnet, and my poor, innocent nerve endings were being yanked out of my flesh through the palm of my hand. It took every spare scrap of willpower I had to tear my hand away as the power built to a crescendo. Though I had no idea how I knew when the rift was about to collapse in on itself. Instinct, or something.

I dropped down to my knees for maybe the fifth time that day, cradling my hand again, shivering as the snow soaked through my jeans. "Come on, Sparrow, up you go," Varric said, and I snorted at the unexpected nickname. Sitting there quaking in the snow, I must have looked exactly like a fragile little bird. "You must be freezing," he continued as I got to my feet, steadying myself with a hand on his shoulder. He wasn't much shorter than me, and I realized with a start that he wasn't just some stocky dude—he was a dwarf. Nothing like Gimli, or any other fantasy dwarf I'd ever seen, in his fancy duster and partly unbuttoned velvet gigolo shirt, but a dwarf all the same.

"Kinda," I admitted in a mumble. Normally the cold didn't bother me, but I usually dressed more warmly than I currently was if I was gonna be outside during the winter. We went through the now-open gate, and Varric pulled me aside as Cassandra stalked off toward where I could see that other woman, Leliana, arguing with a very red-faced man.

"Here," Varric said, digging into what looked like a crate full of supplies. "Don't think anybody will mind if we borrow this." The bundle of green cloth he handed me turned out to be a thick, wool cloak, and I normally would have been more excited about getting to wear it. Admittedly, I was much warmer with the cloth wrapped around my shoulders, and another healing potion stuffed into my hand. I was too tired to gripe about the taste. It wiped away the aches and pains again, and I sighed and fell in behind Varric as he started toward Cassandra and the others.

"Thanks," I said, glad for his presence, even if he turned out to be a figment of my imagination.

"Don't mention it, Sparrow."

I opened my mouth to ask him if I could have a cooler sounding nickname—I seemed to be cursed with goofy ones, like Bonnie-Bean, or Sweets—but I was cut off by the red-faced man I'd spotted earlier. "I order you to place this woman under arrest!" he snapped as Varric and I drew close. I was tired and stressed enough by that point that I could do little more than arch an eyebrow at him. I didn't even know who he was trying to order around until Cassandra scoffed at him.

The following exchange explained a lot. The Angry Man was some sort of low-ranking priest, Chancellor Roderick, and Cassandra and Leliana seemed to be active members of the local major religious organization. Better and better. They kept referring to something called the Maker, which it took me a few minutes to realize was what they called God. Both women were dismissive of Roderick's demands, and he had begun to look like an overripe tomato by the time Cassandra turned to me and asked what I thought we should do.

"You want my opinion?" I asked incredulously. I didn't know anything about strategy or fighting, and both options they were laying in front of me sounded terrible. Charge straight toward the Breach, or more climbing, and still winding up at the Breach? Golly, how would I ever decide?

"You have the mark," Solas pointed out unhelpfully, and I was seized by the brief desire to grab something sharp and cut it out of my hand. Let somebody else carry this thing around and make decisions, and let me wake up safe and warm at home in bed.

"I guess…the pass?" I said, sounding as weak and uncertain as I felt. I could feel Cassandra's disapproval, but she didn't argue. I was glad, because I didn't feel like defending my decision with the argument that taking the longer way around would mean delaying the inevitable. The closer we got to the Breach, the more I wished I hadn't promised to do whatever I could to help.

Climbing up to the pass was laborious, and my muscles were screaming by the time we'd scaled the scaffolding and emerged at the entrance to an old tunnel. A blister had formed on the palm of my right hand, making it difficult to hold onto my staff. I grimaced at the thought of downing another potion, but Solas saved me the trouble.

We paused to rest on the final landing, and I was glad to hear Varric grumbling about having to climb so many ladders. At least I wasn't the only one who was completely miserable. I took a moment to sit, leaning against the cold stone, and Solas walked over and knelt in front of me. "May I?" he asked, holding out his hand. I didn't know what he was planning to do, but I didn't have the wherewithal to be suspicious, or ask any snarky questions, so I let him take my hand. A wave of bluish-white light glimmered as he waved his free hand over mine, and I blinked in surprise as my blister shrank and disappeared. "Better?" he asked as I took my hand back and flexed it.

"I—yeah. Um. Thanks," I said awkwardly.

"You are welcome, Bonnie," he said, and his smile of acknowledgment seemed genuine enough.

"Er, sorry. I mean, for snapping at you, earlier. At the first rift."

"No need to apologize. I imagine all of this is very strange to you," he said.

"Pfft. That's the understatement of the century," I muttered. I looked down at both of my hands, and shook my head in bewilderment. "We don't have this kinda thing where I'm from. Magic, I mean. Well, not like this. We don't have anybody who can wave their hand and heal the sick, at least not nowadays. There was that whole thing with Jesus, but that's a long story."

Solas made a noise of interest, and said, "You will have to tell me more, once the Breach has been dealt with. I have…heard of what you are describing, but I've never encountered anybody affected by it, or seen it myself. Until today, I would have deemed it entirely theoretical." I felt a flutter of hope at that. Maybe that meant we could figure out a way to send me home.

"I still can't decide if all of this is even real," I said.

"We have rested long enough," Cassandra interjected, and I heard Varric mutter under his breath as he got to his feet.

"I assure you that everything you're experiencing is all too real," Solas said, "Though of course, I don't have any way of truly proving that to you." He got to his feet, and held his hands out to help me up. My legs protested having to hold up the rest of my body, but I refused to lean on anyone.

The caverns we moved through were crawling with demons, of course. I was running on fumes, and swinging at them took more and more energy each time. Cassandra offered me another potion, this one an ugly yellow color that tasted like burning, and made me feel like I'd just downed three Red Bulls. It re-energized me, but it also made that strangeness I'd been feeling swirl even more insistently beneath my skin. When I bonked a shade in the head with my staff I felt the urge to do something else, something _more_ , release that something that was swelling inside me, though I had no idea what it was. It made me want to tear my own skin off to get it out, and I caught Solas side-eyeing me more than once, which didn't help.

I was almost grateful when we found another rift after emerging from the tunnels. Ignoring the soldiers, I stalked right up to it and held out my hand, hoping to somehow drain the excess energy bursting through me. Engaging the rift while there were still demons to deal with seemed to stun the creatures, making them easier to dispatch. My arm still felt like it was going to fall off after, but it didn't go numb again until the demons were dead and I'd closed the rift.

"You are becoming quite proficient at this," Solas said as Cassandra spoke with one of the soldiers. Apparently, these ones had been lost in the pass, and probably would have been killed if we hadn't come along. So I guess the moral of that story is that procrastination always pays off.

"It's not like it takes any skill," I huffed, heart palpitating uncomfortably in my chest.

Solas frowned, and asked, "Are you unwell?"

I wanted to be a smartass, but I checked the urge to be sarcastic and shook my head. "I feel…weird. I dunno how to explain it." My hands were shaking, and I wanted to do something, maybe scream, maybe throw myself off the mountain, anything to calm the unsettling sensation building inside me. It felt like my skin was going to split, or my heart was going to beat its way right out of my chest.

He took me gently by the elbow and pulled me away from the others. Cassandra was still busy addressing the soldiers, but I noticed Varric watching us with interest. "Describe what you're feeling," Solas told me, and I looked up at him with a slightly wild expression. He was some kind of healer, witch-doctor, whatever. He had to be able to help.

"I feel like…like all my nerves are on fire, but it doesn't hurt. Like—like I need to burn off some energy, but I don't—I can't. My heart has been racing since I laid eyes on the Breach, and I can't calm down. I dunno what it is, but I feel like there's something building up inside me and if I don't get it out I'm gonna explode, or just burn away." I was breathless by the end of my explanation, even though I hadn't really spoken at length.

"Solas," Cassandra said from right behind me, and I nearly jumped out of my skin. "Is everything all right?"

"Fine, Cassandra. I was attempting to ease the pain of the mark," Solas lied smoothly, which I would have found impressive if I wasn't about to vibrate out of existence.

I glanced at Cassandra, and she didn't look like she quite believed him, but she only said, "We need to keep going. The rest of you, with me!" With the addition of our new friends, we moved on toward the smoking ruins of the temple. Now I had two bodyguards, Varric on one side, Solas on the other, and myself in the middle feeling frustrated and shaky. Whatever Solas thought my problem was, he wouldn't say it in front of the others. I noticed some of the soldiers watching him warily, which I didn't understand. They gave me funny looks too, but I was the one with the glowy hand who'd possibly murdered what I had worked out was their version of a Pope.

The temple was worse than anything I could have imagined. Burnt corpses were hunched in positions of agony, their skin crisp and black and still smoking, though cracks showed raw flesh beneath. I'd never seen anything so horrible, and I would have thrown up but my stomach was blessedly empty. Nobody had given me anything to eat when I'd awoken, but I was understandably lacking an appetite. "Jesus," I whispered, trying not to look directly at any of the bodies.

"That is where you emerged from the Fade," Cassandra said, pointing to a corner of collapsed wall. She was watching me carefully, as if gauging my reaction. I hoped I looked sick enough to convince her I wasn't capable of doing something like this.

Leliana appeared as we passed through an archway, and joined us as we continued toward the epicenter of the explosion. "What is that?" I asked as we passed jutting rock formations. They glowed green as I passed, and I realized the stone was reacting to the mark.

"No idea, but I do know what that is," Varric said, brow furrowed as he nodded to a cluster of gleaming red stone. "You know this is red lyrium, Seeker?" he called up to Cassandra.

"I am aware," she said flatly without looking back at us. "We have more important things to focus on."

"But what's it doing here?" Varric fairly hissed, putting a hand on my back to guide me around another protruding spike of red stone. The stuff looked familiar, and I had the vague sense that I'd seen in it my dreams before I'd woken up in that dungeon.

"Perhaps it was beneath the surface, and was unearthed by the explosion," Solas mused.

"Well, just don't touch it," Varric cautioned, "it's evil." I did get that feeling from the red stone, which made the hairs stand up on my neck, and left me feeling slightly nauseous.

"What's lyrium?" I asked.

"Later, Sparrow," Varric told me. There was no time to insist. We came around the edge of a wall of stone and there was the Breach in all its terrible glory. A large rift hovered in a crater below us, by a column that had somehow survived the blast. I couldn't believe there'd been a building here, where now there was only blasted stone.

"Prepare the sacrifice." I didn't jump as a booming voice echoed around us, but I couldn't see the source. The others looked just as confused as I felt for once as the voice continued, low and menacing.

"What are we hearing?" Cassandra asked.

"Likely the one responsible for the Breach," Solas answered. "An echo of what happened here." Then there was a woman's voice, crying out for help, and both Cassandra and Leliana went stiff.

"That's the Most Holy!" Cassandra said.

Then I heard something I definitely wasn't expecting. My own voice echoed around us, and I winced at the sound of it. "What the hell is this?!" Eloquent as usual.

"So you were there!" Cassandra said, rounding on me, "What happened? Who was with the Most Holy?"

"I-I dunno! I don't remember any of this, I—," I stopped mid-sentence, jaw dropping as images appeared in the very air. A dark figure, shrouded in shadow with burning eyes, an old woman in red and white robes at his mercy, and then me, bursting onto the scene with a horrified look on my face. "Kill the girl," the monstrous figure commanded, and then the images faded from existence. My insides felt watery, and I wanted to collapse, to close my eyes and stick my fingers in my ears and block everything out.

"What the shit!" I wheezed. "What the fuck! What the fuck is going on!"

"That is what I would like to know," Cassandra growled, though her ire was turned toward the Breach.

"Tell me this isn't normal," I said, clutching at my chest and leaning heavily on my staff, "Y'all can't possibly deal with this kinda crap every day without having a heart attack every five minutes. It's not okay."

"Believe me, I know how you feel," Varric sighed. "If it makes you feel any better, this kind of shit usually just happens on Tuesdays."

"Enough," Leliana commanded, though she said it more calmly than Cassandra might have, "Bonnie, you must act now."

"Right," I said, looking up at the sky, "So, what, am I supposed to fly up there? Because I dunno about you guys, but I can't fly."

"No," Solas said, pointing to the rift in the center of the crater. "That rift was the first. If you seal it, you may also seal the Breach. It's closed, albeit temporarily. You will need to open it again, and seal it properly."

"No offense, but that sounds like the worst idea anybody's ever had," I said. He seemed amused by that, if nothing else. Sighing, I stood up straight, and managed not to fall flat on my face. "Right. Well. Fuck it. Let's go." Maybe this was what would wake me up, and in a minute I'd open my eyes and find myself in a hospital bed. I just hoped it wouldn't be a Rip Van Winkle situation, and I'd been asleep for a decade or two.

"Inspiring words, Sparrow," Varric said with a chuckle, following as I strode toward the edge of the crater.

"Forgive me for my brevity, but if I don't die doing this, then I'm going to shit my pants at the very least. I'd rather just get it over with," I explained. He barked an actual laugh at that, which nearly drew a hysterical giggle from me. Now was not the time, though.

I got down into the crater without breaking my neck, and we gathered around the rift with a small cadre of soldiers. Archers stood above us, the lucky bastards at a safe distance. "Be careful, Bonnie. Opening the rift will likely attract attention from the other side."

"Great," I muttered, as Cassandra rallied the archers. Demons, demons, and more demons. I didn't really know what I was supposed to do, so I let the mark do the work for me. I held my hand up, and the power surged out of its own accord, and there was a ripping sound as agony burned up and down my arm, then the rift exploded and we were all thrown back.

I wanted to scream when I sat up and saw the thing that had come through this time. A huge purple beast the size of an elephant, and jacked like a body-builder. Eyeless, horned, with rows of jagged teeth, it was the worst thing I'd seen all day, and that was saying something. "Oh, come on," I groaned, as it summoned a whip made out of lightning. If it weren't for Solas and his magical barrier, several of the soldiers might have gotten fried.

"Sparrow, get up!" Varric shouted at me as he shot bolt after bolt from his crossbow at the monster. I staggered to my feet, trying to stay out of the way as several shades appeared. My body was thrumming as I approached the rift, and threw my hand up at it. If I could stun the demons again, that might give the others a fighting chance. That was the only thing I could do without getting mauled, or so I thought.

I yelped pathetically as something struck me from behind, disrupting my connection to the rift before the demons could be stunned. A shade loomed over me as I tried to get to my feet, scrambling back until I ran into the rock pillar. Desperately, I cast around, but nobody was watching me. They were overwhelmed by the big guy, and being harried by the other shades. Fuck, fuck!

"Stay away from me!" I shouted, throwing my hand out as the beast swiped a gnarled, clawed hand at me. The sensation that had been burning, building through me all day chose that moment to free itself, bursting from my hand in a gout of fizzling energy that sent the demon reeling. I was too stunned to do anything as the shade shrieked and shook itself, coming back at me with a vengeance. Then it screamed again, arching back and shuddering before sinking away into the ground. Varric stood not ten feet away, looking at me with an unreadable expression.

"The rift!" he shouted over the sounds of fighting, and I got to my feet in jerky movements.

What did I do? I thought. The staff was humming in my grip, the power surging through me, begging for release. I wanted to unleash it, just set it free, let it burn me up, burn all of us, but I focused on the rift. That was all I had to do. Just close it. Just end it.

"Now!" Cassandra cried out, and I saw that the big demon had fallen. I threw my hand up, and I felt like my bones were on fire as the mark struggled against the rift. This one was different, I realized with dismay. It was bigger, and connected to the Breach.

"I can't," I whimpered. It was going to destroy me. I was going to shrivel up and blow away, and nobody would ever know what had become of poor Bonnie.

The last thing I was aware of was blinding light, and a feeling of letting go.

.

 **So, I had like 90% of this written when I posted chapter 1, but suffice it to say that my job is ridiculous. We had to redo six months of work, and I nearly quit :)**

 **I think I might rewrite chapter one at some point. Anyhow, if you made it this far, please leave a review and I'll try not to take another five months to update.  
**


	3. Chapter 3

Thanks for all the faves and follows and reviews so far! You're all top pop in my book.

Anyhoo, trying to match the dialogue word-for-word is really time consuming and I don't want to do it (unless I feel like it's important), so pretty much all dialogue is either going to be from memory or completely pulled out of my ass.

x

 _If I don't open my eyes, then none of it was real. Schrodinger's Reality._ That's how these things worked, or so I chose to believe in my half-awake state.

I was warm, wrapped up in slightly scratchy blankets on a bed that wasn't super lumpy. It wasn't my bed, but it could have been a bed at Grandpa Aberdeen's house, or even a hospital. It was quiet, but I could hear the wind blowing outside, and occasionally the distant sound of voices. My head felt fuzzy, and I was having trouble putting recent events together in my mind. None of it made sense, so it was easier to just lie there, wrapped up like a human burrito, pretending that the rest of the world didn't exist.

The sound of a door opening brought me fully awake, and I rolled over slowly, blinking into the darkness of the room I found myself in. I half expected to see my mom creeping around, like she used to do when I lived at home and I would sleep until noon. She liked to sneak in my room and tidy up, open the blinds so the sun would glare in my eyes, and then chide me for sleeping so late when I woke up grumbling. A part of me would have welcomed that after the horrible dream I'd just had, but it was not to be.

The scrawny girl carrying an armful of firewood was definitely not my mom. She didn't seem to realize I was awake as she approached the fireplace and knelt down. I watched her add a few logs to the fire, humming softly to herself before standing and brushing her hands off. Then she turned and saw me watching her, and peeped in alarm.

"Milady!" she said, fairly quivering. "You're awake!"

Groaning, I sat up, shoving the covers away and immediately regretting it. Even with the fire it was brisk in the little room, and when I looked down I saw I was only wearing what looked like a shift, like an old lady. "Ugh. Who changed me?" I didn't think I'd done it myself. I couldn't really remember anything that had happened after that big, purple monster had appeared. We'd fought it, and I was still alive, so that was good, right?

"Lady Pentaghast brought you back here and had the servants tend to you, milady. You've been asleep two days."

No wonder my stomach felt like it was eating itself. I had no idea how long I'd slept after the temple had been destroyed, and I hadn't eaten since before I'd wound up in this ridiculous dimension. I noticed there was a tray on the nightstand beside the bed, and my mouth watered at the sight of it. All it held was an apple, some sliced cheese, a heel of bread, and a glass of water, but I was hungry enough that it looked like a feast.

"The Seeker is waiting at the chantry," the girl squeaked as I grabbed the apple and tried to take a moderate bite. "She said to inform her when you awoke. At once, she said."

I blinked at her, not able to fully grasp why she seemed to be shaking in her boots at the sight of me. "You're an elf," I remarked stupidly, which was apparently the wrong thing to say.

"At once, she said!" the poor girl stammered out, and then she was dashing through the door like she couldn't get away fast enough. Well, she could go tell Cassandra I was awake, but I was going to take my sweet time eating and finding clothes to wear. I knew if I ate too fast I'd just make myself sick, but it seemed especially hard not to chug the glass of water down once I took a sip.

Once I'd licked the last crumb of cheese from my fingers, I decided I felt much better. Physically. Mentally, I was teetering on the brink, but I wrapped up my mounting horror in a neat little box and tucked it away for later.

The room I was in turned out to be a single-room cabin, which was deceptively cozy. I poked around in a chest against the wall and found my own clothes, which had been washed, much to my relief. I didn't really want to walk around in the ren-faire dress folded up alongside my stuff. My bag was in there, too, and all my things had been returned to their rightful place. I was surprised by that since I liked to arrange my belongings into specific pockets. Somebody had tucked everything right back where I'd had it, like they'd never gone rifling through my things to begin with.

With my bag slung over my shoulder, I approached the door, but paused with my hand on the latch. What was I about to walk into? I should have asked that girl if it had worked, if we'd managed to get the Breach closed. My hand certainly hurt less, now that I thought about it. I glanced down at my palm, and cringed at the sight of the mark. It was dormant for the moment, just a faintly iridescent slash of scar tissue across my palm. I could feel it, though, like something alive had burrowed itself into my flesh. A stomach-turning mental image accompanied the thought, and I clenched my fist as I pushed through the door.

"Oh," I said aloud.

People crowded either side of the narrow street that led up to the cabin I emerged from, like they'd been waiting for me. That elf girl must have told the whole town I was awake while I'd been dicking around getting ready. A hush fell over the gently murmuring crowd, and I felt my mouth go dry as dozens of sets of eyes turned my way.

Being the center of attention was most definitely not my cup of tea. I hated giving oral reports in school, or generally doing anything to draw stares. Good or bad, having so many people watching me made me wish I could shrink down and crawl underneath the closest rock.

All right. _At least they don't look like they wanna kill you anymore. That's…something_. Moving slowly, I put one foot in front of the other, head ducked as I passed the gathered crowd. Murmured words followed me, whispers of awe that made my skin crawl.

"That's her, I can't believe it."

"She stopped the Breach from growing."

"She's the one they're calling the Herald of Andraste."

"It was Andraste in the rift behind her, the soldiers said so!"

I didn't know who or what Andraste was, but the way they were looking at me was highly unsettling. I started to think I would have preferred it if they went back to glaring at me.

After a minute or so the crowd began to thin, but the stares and whispers followed me. I could see the entrance to the village as I came around the edge of a row of cabins, and it gave me pause. Where would I go if I turned around and walked out of here? A mad little voice in the back of my head told me to just do it, just start running and don't look back, but I knew it was a terrible idea. Besides, who was to say they wouldn't send somebody out to tackle me and drag me back up to that dungeon, kicking and screaming?

I could see the church, chantry, whatever it was, looming over the rest of the town on top of a gradual slope. Haven, I vaguely remembered somebody calling the collection of tiny houses spread out around me. It was a pretty little hamlet, like something you'd see on a postcard at a bed and breakfast in Maine. I still couldn't really believe the things I was seeing. People in real suits of armor and thick robes, nearly everybody was carrying a belt knife at the least, and there were elves and dwarves, and funny little pink animals scurrying between houses.

In a way it was the sort of thing I'd dreamed about happening to me as a kid, my nose buried in a Harry Potter book and wishing I could be swept away to a world of magic. Only, in my imagined fantasy land I hadn't come so close to dying quite as often.

Speaking of which. I risked a glance up at the sky and made a noise of despair. "Seriously," I whispered, avoiding the gazes of passersby. The Breach was still there, taunting me with its eerie presence. I guessed it wasn't quite as foreboding as it had been. The ominous swirling was at a minimum, and there was a distinct lack of green fire hurtling toward the ground. So I'd done something right, at least, which explained why everybody was looking at me like I was some kind of saint.

Up by the chantry, I saw more and more people dressed in white and red robes, complete with habits in most cases. Religious types always made me uncomfortable, ready as they were with a sermon at all times. Most of the ones around me now were women, which was preferable to being surrounded by male priests, but the cool looks some of them gave me were enough to make me squirm. I slipped past them, through the open chantry doors, and immediately felt some of the tension drain out of my body. There was hardly anybody in there with me, and those few barely spared me a glance.

My relief was short-lived, though. As I crossed the floor, I could hear voices arguing behind the heavy looking door at the far end of the main hall. One of them sounded like Cassandra. The other was definitely that weasely little red-faced man from the bridge. Super.

I stopped just outside the door, hedging, listening to the muffled voices barking back and forth. I could only make out a few words, but it was obvious that they were arguing about me. Sighing, I finally worked up the courage, and pushed the door open with a bit of effort.

"Guards! Chain her!" Roderick spat, jabbing a finger at me. The two armored figures flanking the door only moved to look to Cassandra, which served to further enrage the chancellor. "She must be brought to Val Royeaux for trial!"

"Disregard that, and leave us," Cassandra said in a tone that brooked no argument. I felt trapped as the door was shut behind me, leaving me alone with Cassandra and Roderick. I started when I noticed Leliana in the corner, tucked away, and I had a sneaking suspicion she'd only drawn my attention because she wanted me to know she was there.

"You would let her go free then?" Roderick demanded, "She is a danger—,"

"She is our best hope to close the Breach, permanently," Cassandra interrupted. "Or would you have me ignore it? It is stable, for now, but we need her mark, regardless of where it came from."

Roderick turned his sneer on me, and I squared my shoulders, chin up. "You really still think I'm responsible for all this?"

"Yes," he said darkly, "Who else could it have been?"

"She is not a suspect," Cassandra said, which came as a surprise. I wouldn't have expected for her of all people to take my side so definitively. Then again, she struck me as the pragmatic type. "She would not have done as much as she did to help if she were involved in all of this."

Leliana chose that moment to detach herself from the shadows and throw in her two cents, "But someone did cause the explosion at the temple, and we must find those responsible. It would have been someone Justinia did not suspect, someone who may still walk among us." She gave Roderick a pointed look, and he blanched, taking a step back from the two women.

"You suspect me?" he sputtered.

"There are few who are beyond suspicion at this point," Cassandra said.

"Except for her!" he stabbed a finger at me again, and I had to fight the urge to grab the digit and snap it backward.

"Didn't your mother ever tell you that it's rude to point?" I asked him. He purpled again, and I wondered if he was going to faint from the rapid flush of blood to and from his head.

"You did not hear what we did at the temple. Most Holy called out to Bonnie for help," Leliana said.

"Magic and deception," Roderick argued.

"No. It was no trick," Cassandra said. "She was sent to us, from the Maker Himself."

"That is close to blasphemy," Roderick said, "Tread carefully, Seeker."

"The fact remains that we do still need her," Leliana said as Cassandra turned away. "As long as the Breach remains, it is a threat, and the mark is the only weapon we have against it."

I jumped as Cassandra joined us again, slamming a large, heavy-looking tome down on the table in the center of the room. "Do you recognize this, chancellor? It is a writ from the Divine, granting us the authority to act," she said as she jabbed the cover with a gloved finger. "As of this moment, I declare the Inquisition reborn." She came around the table, getting up into Roderick's face as he tried to stand his ground. "We will close the Breach, we will find those responsible, and we will restore order, with or without your approval."

Roderick looked to be at a loss for words, and finally backed down. "Do as you must," he said coldly, "As I shall do." And then he turned on his heel and left the room.

Leliana sighed, and leaned her hands on the table. "We are not ready for this."

"And yet we have no choice," Cassandra said. "It will take time to gather resources and allies. Time we may not have." Then her gaze turned to me and became measuring once again. "And you are at the center of it all, a mystery."

"I would like to question you," Leliana added, "Solas says you claim to be from another world, which I believe would be better kept a secret." Her eyes flickered over me, and I realized she was taking in my outfit. My clothing was indeed very much out of place here.

"Uh, yeah. I kinda stick out, don't I?"

"That is an understatement," Cassandra said dryly.

"You don't even know where you are, do you?" Leliana asked, and my silence was its own answer. "I'm sure Josephine would be more than happy to educate you on Thedosian history and society. As for your magic…"

"Magic?" I echoed, confused.

"You cast a spell while fending off a shade in the crater," Cassandra explained. "I was…displeased at first, but Solas believes you were unaware of your ability. You yourself said there is no magic in your world, so any power you had would have lain dormant, unusable."

I looked down at my hands during her explanation, and remembered something bursting from my palm, some kind of power that had nothing to do with the mark. I remembered the strange energy that had buzzed beneath my skin all day, and realized with a start that I was still feeling it. The feeling was much subdued, but it was still there, humming deep down in my bones.

"So…you're telling me I have magic powers?" I asked cautiously. I didn't understand Cassandra's grim look. This was a dream come true for me, the only thing that could have made it better was if Hagrid burst through the door and shouted, "Yer a wizard, Bonnie!"

"Untrained magic," Leliana corrected. "Another setback. You will need to be instructed. Solas has already volunteered, and we have few enough mages among our number who have proven trustworthy."

"Solas is an apostate," Cassandra said, like I was supposed to understand what that meant. She made it sound as if being an apostate wasn't really a good thing. "I would rather you be trained by a Circle Enchanter, but most of those with any true skill in Haven were killed at the conclave."

"This is all up to you, of course," Leliana said, "We will not force you to remain here, but we can only offer you protection if you stay."

"You think I'll be in danger if I leave?" I asked, realizing what a stupid question it was only after the words were out of my mouth.

"Not everyone has accepted your innocence," Cassandra said. "And your magic…it is a danger to you."

I sighed, and looked up at the ceiling. There really wasn't much of a choice here. I was still trapped in this world, or dream. Might as well play along until I figured out what the hell was going on, or how to get back home. "I'm the only one who can do something about the Breach, right? I can't just leave you guys high and dry."

Cassandra actually cracked a smile, and held out her hand to me. I hesitated only for a moment before reaching out and grasping it. Her grip was unsurprisingly firm, but she didn't break my hand. "Then it's settled."

"We have a lot of work to do," Leliana said, looking pleased, as if she'd known all along I'd offer to help. "Come, Bonnie. I'd like to know more about you." I didn't have a chance to be worried about that as she swept me out of the room, or to feel put upon by this seemingly insurmountable task. If this was a dream maybe it wasn't going to be so terrible if I got to use magic.

I did my best to ignore the needling thought that this was all too real, too vivid and tactile to be a dream.

The sun was beginning to set when I stumbled into the cottage they'd set me up in, groaning as I tottered over to the bed and flopped down ungracefully. I was utterly exhausted. For the better part of the day, that damn spy had been grilling me for information. I'd found out quickly that there was no use in being discrete with her—she had a way of digging out information I didn't even know I had. At certain points I'd noticed I was repeating myself, and realized she was doing it on purpose, asking me the same questions in different ways to make sure I would give the same answer. She seemed fascinated, not that I blamed her. I was from a different universe, a world she couldn't even imagine.

All the same, I felt like my brain had been turned inside out and picked clean. I'd never been arrested, but I could only imagine that this was what it felt like to be interrogated. At least it'd been gentler than my initial introduction to Leliana and Cassandra. We'd sat at a table in a small room in the chantry, and we'd even eaten lunch together. There were moments where I almost felt like we were just two pals who hadn't seen each other in a while having a lengthy chat. But then the reality would hit me all over again, and the weirdness of my situation would wrap itself around me like an itchy sweater.

Eventually, Leliana had decided she was satisfied that I wasn't lying or crazy. She'd been especially interested in determining the purpose of all of my belongings, and had seemed almost covetous of my Swiss-Army knife. I was sure that she wasn't really done with me, but at least for now I could turn my brain off for a little while and try to sleep.

A knock sounded at the door, and I made a few short sobbing noises as I sat up. "Now what?"

"Sparrow!" Varric said jovially as I opened the door.

"Can I help you?" I asked, pinching the bridge of my nose.

"Depends," he said, leaning a hand on the doorjamb, "I heard from Curly—that's Commander Cullen, by the way—that the scouts found something interesting on the other side of the lake. Some kind of big, metal carriage."

I gasped, and ran to grab my cloak, exhaustion suddenly forgotten. It was a lot colder out now that the sun was going down, and I had a feeling I was going on a nice long walk.

"I take it you know what this thing is?" Varric asked as I slipped past him and shut the door behind me.

"Yup!" I said brightly, "It's my baby."

I had mentioned my car to Leliana, but I'd been so frazzled by the end of her interrogation that I had forgotten all about it. I couldn't help but wonder if Leliana had sent those scouts out to find it. Varric followed me as I made my way through the village, out the gates, and began walking the path that led around the frozen lake.

"Just out of curiosity, what time of year is it?" I asked Varric as I sank ankle deep into a snowdrift.

"Early autumn. We're pretty high up in the Frostbacks, though," he explained, tone somewhat sour. "I'd much rather be back home in front of a warm fire. Hardly ever snows in Kirkwall, but it rains like a bastard."

I made a mental note to ask somebody for a map, since I had no clue where any of those places were.

"So…," Varric began, "Now that Cassandra's out of ear-shot, how are you holding up?"

"Well," I said, circling around the back of a lone cabin, sitting in the middle of a large outcropping of rocks, "I'm still feeling mildly hysterical, but considering I got dropkicked into Dark Narnia I actually feel like I'm handling things pretty well."

"I, ah, assume that's a reference to something?" Varric asked.

"Huh? Oh, yeah. Narnia, it's, uh…," I trailed off as we passed through a fence and found ourselves in a large, familiar meadow. That wasn't what had made me lose my chain of thought, however. "Um. Varric?" I said, as I looked up at the sky.

"Yeah?" he said, coming to stand beside me.

"There are two moons," I said.

"…Yeah?" I looked down at him, and saw he was looking up at me with as much confusion as I was currently feeling.

"You know what, never mind," I said. I'd seen weirder things here than two moons. That being said, I couldn't help glancing up at the sky every few steps. _Two moons_. _How the fuck do the tides work on a world with two moons?_

As we continued through the snowy meadow, I began to see flickering lights off in the distance. I could see the hill I'd climbed when I'd first come through the wormhole that had brought me here, rising up into the night and blotting out the stars.

"Man, it is really damn dark out here," I said, mostly to myself. Without light pollution, and even with the light of the moons and stars, it was still disturbingly dark. I wished the little flashlight on my keychain still worked. When I got to my car, I was definitely getting the crank flashlight out of the glove box. For the first time since I was six, I had a feeling I was going to need some sort of nightlight.

The stars were pretty, though. I didn't give myself the chance to stop and appreciate them, partly because I was freezing in spite of the cloak, and partly because I too focused on getting to my car before these medieval dorks messed it up.

Finally, we broke through a small stand of trees, and found ourselves greeted by a group of six people who were standing and staring at my car like it was a snake waiting to bite them. "Curly!" Varric called out, and several heads turned our way.

"Varric," one of them greeted, sounding mildly exasperated. I couldn't make him out too well, in spite of the flickering torches several of the scouts were holding. He was tall, though, and wearing a big fur ruff around his shoulders, and shiny armor. "I didn't mean for you to hike all the way out here with the Herald."

"Well, you know me, Curly. Just trying to be helpful," Varric said, huffing slightly from exertion.

"Bonnie," a voice said from beside me, and I had a small coronary episode before I realized that it was Leliana materializing out of the dark. "I believe this contraption is the… 'car' you mentioned during our talk?"

"Yeah," I said, clutching at my chest, willing my heart not to explode. "That's her." My car. My beloved. My child. Sort of a piece of crap, but she got me from A to B. She was sitting partly buried in a snow drift. I didn't think it had actually snowed, but the wind had blown snow up the driver's side. I reached into my bag and began digging around for my keys as I explained, "It's how people get around, where I'm from."

"How does it work?" Varric asked, rubbing his chin in contemplation.

"Uh, an internal combustion engine. I don't know what that means, though. I'm not, like, a mechanic or anything, y'know. If it helps at all, back when they were first invented people called them 'horseless carriages,'" I said as I finally pulled my keys out of the bottom of my bag.

I heard the man Varric kept calling Curly—I'd already forgotten what his real name was supposed to be—snort, as if in derision. "I fail to see how such a…machine could possibly work. We tried pushing it. It's made nearly entirely of metal, there's no way—,"

I cut him off by pressing the unlock button on my key fob, trying not to smirk when they all gasped at the flashing headlights. "I think it's actually made of fiberglass. The outside, at least. The frame is metal, mostly. But she do weigh like three-thousand pounds. And the brake is on, so you wouldn't be able to just push it through the snow."

"Fascinating," Leliana said, following me as I picked my way over to the passenger side. "You must show me how it works, but first we need to move it. I believe the apothecary's cabin by the lake will be a suitable hiding spot, provided we cover it with a tarpaulin."

"Oh. Right," I said, disappointed. I wouldn't be going for any joyrides up here on the mountain. "How are we gonna get her out of this meadow? She's a sedan. They're not really meant for off-roading."

"I suspect we'll have to bring some of the horses out. Is there a way to attach a lead rope?" Leliana asked.

"I think so. There should be a way to hook something to the undercarriage," I said. I mean, that was how cars got towed, right? Right. Curly—who was named Cullen, according to Leliana—ordered the scouts to round up some horses and harnesses. We got my baby rigged up, and shoveled partway out, enough so that when I put her in neutral the horses would be able to pull her out of the snow. It was a slow process, and I was teetering on the brink of exhaustion by the time they got her all settled in behind that lonely cabin.

"You don't think the scouts will tell anybody about this?" I asked Varric as a large, leather tarp was secured around my poor, metal child.

Varric scoffed, and reached up to pat me on the shoulder. "Not Leliana's people. Trust me. Your 'horseless carriage' is safe." Good. I didn't want anybody looting my car, smashing the windows to paw through all the junk in the back seat. People on Earth would realize it wasn't worth stealing, but I couldn't say the same for these folks in—what was it? Thedas?

I had no idea what time it was when I got back to my cabin. Varric walked with me, and I could feel him quietly studying me as we moved through the hard-packed snowy streets of Haven.

"So that contraption of yours," he said as we turned the corner that lead to my little dead-end, "It's not like anything I've ever seen."

"Uh-huh," I said, too tired for any kind of complex reply.

"You're really not from this world, are you Sparrow?" he said, pausing a few feet away from my door.

"Wasn't it obvious before you saw my car?" I asked.

"Well, I've seen some weird shit in my day. You could have been ensorcelled or something, but," he shrugged, "I guess you really are from another world."

"I am," I said, staring down at my feet. My worn, Converse All-Stars. Varric was wearing leather boots that were probably custom made to fit him. That's how they'd done it back in the old days, right? There was no Zazzle, no Payless back then, or here, now, in this world of magic. "Varric?" I said as I wriggled my freezing tootsies inside my shoes.

"Yeah?" he said.

"I'm totally out of my element here. I think…I think I'm royally screwed," I told him, letting a hint of the fear I was feeling into my voice. I had my car, but I couldn't hop in and drive back to normalcy. I had my clothes, but all they did was pin me as the odd-woman-out. My phone was dead, my debit card was worthless—I didn't belong here, standing on an unpaved path in the silvery light of twin moons.

I heard Varric sigh, and I risked a glance at his face. He looked sympathetic, shadowy as his face was in the dark, but I couldn't detect any pity. I wasn't sure if I was grateful for that or not. Sometimes I felt like I could use a little bit of pity, and this was one of those times. "Look Sparrow—Bonnie. I'm no magical expert, but Chuckles knows a lot of obscure shit about magic and the Fade. He's the one who kept the mark from killing you while you were asleep, while the rest of us where running around like chickens with our heads cut off. If anybody can help you get back home, he can. And in the meantime, you've got an entire village of people looking out for you."

I nodded, feeling slightly less stricken and alone. "Thanks, Varric. I think I'm gonna hit the hay. Sweet dreams."

I could just make out his grin in the dark. "Sweet dreams, Sparrow."

My little cabin was surprisingly warm. Somebody had lit a fire while I was gone, and the brazier next to the bed. I had retrieved my wind-up flashlight from my car like I'd planned, and I crawled into bed with it without bothering to change. For just one more night I wanted to be the Bonnie Trevelyan from Earth, not the lost girl on a foreign world. Even though I found myself gifted with magical powers, surrounded by all the things from the fantasy books I'd always loved, I would have given anything in that moment to be curled up in my own bed, in my own apartment, on my own planet.

 _Maybe this time when I wake up it'll all have been a dream_. I wondered how many times I was going to think that to myself before I finally accepted the truth.

x

I got some sweet speakers for my tv for xmas, and I'm full of lasagna and chocolate, merr crimmis. Please review, etc., because I like attention.


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